


Grumpy Cat

by LittleHeda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clarke is on the search for Twix and caramel apple suckers, Clexa Halloween Week, F/F, Grumpy Cat - Freeform, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Harley Quinn - Freeform, Lexa hates halloween, Office Party, Poison Ivy - Freeform, Queen Elsa, Trick or Treating, clexa au, frozen, halloween party, trick or treat, wonder woman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 18:27:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12538388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleHeda/pseuds/LittleHeda
Summary: Halloween Tumblr Prompt: It’s a Halloween party at work and Lexa has a blind date. She thinks she’s being set up with a woman who works in her department, and is told to seek out the girl dressed as wonder woman. The problem is that nearly every other woman in the room is wearing that costume. Clarke is not the woman she was set up with, but it’s the one she ends up taking home.- Or -Lexa hates Halloween and Clarke has a sweet tooth.





	Grumpy Cat

The plastic pair of cat ears that were poking through her hair were the only indication that Lexa had dressed for Halloween. She was cheap, and Halloween was nothing more than a candy-crazed holiday for children that would eventually contribute to their cavities.  She’d had no desire to spend copious amounts of money on an outfit she would wear only once, so even the cat-eared headband that was squeezing her head were an item that she had borrowed from Octavia. 

A bowl of candy was sitting on the table in front of her, guarded by the space between her elbows. Lexa’s chin was resting in the palm of her hand, her dark green and half-lidded eyes scanning her bowl and counting how many Snickers were left. Twelve, she concluded, though there may be more buried beneath the Skittles and Starbursts. Not that she cared, of course, because the brightly wrapped candies weren’t for her. 

Batman waddled to her table, his bright blue eyes staring longingly through the holes of his mask. He held up a pumpkin shaped basket, and with missing teeth and dimpled cheeks, he announced an excited, “Trick or treat!” Lexa chuckled, her lips twitching with the threat of a smile as her hand dipped quickly into her candy bowl. She tossed several pieces into Batman’s basket, who peered into the pumpkin to assess his earnings. “Thank you!” He said, satisfied, then scrambled away to his mother, a woman who worked downstairs in human resources. 

“Well don’t _you_ look enthused?” Octavia slammed her hands onto the table, leaning over Lexa’s shoulder as she peered into the bowl she was guarding. “Fuck, even _you_ don’t have any Twix left, and kids are avoiding you like the plague.” The younger brunette straightened her stance before dropping into the chair next to Lexa. “I can’t blame them. You should have dressed as a witch instead of a cat.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Meow,” She said dryly, nudging the bowl of candy towards Octavia. “You know I hate Halloween, and I’m only here because you made me come.” Her nose crinkled with disgust as Octavia, dressed as Poison Ivy, fished around the candy bowl before procuring a caramel coated lollipop. She unwrapped it, then popped the sucker into her mouth. “Those are gross.” 

“ _You’re_ gross,” Octavia proclaimed, gnawing at the caramel with her teeth. Lexa cringed. “So,” She continued after a moment, crunching on the lollipop as the sugar fractured into shards. “Have you found Wonder Woman yet? Her real name is Niylah, in case you were wondering, but I told her which table was yours. She said she’d be around by seven, and it’s…” Octavia glanced at the clock that was hanging on the wall across the room. “Seven-thirty.” 

A snort escaped through Lexa’s lips. “Every other girl that has come up to my table has been Wonder Woman. I stopped asking if they were here on a blind date after the forth one yanked her kid away like I’d taken a piss in the candy,” Octavia paused in her assault of the lollipop, contemplative, then decided it didn’t matter if Lexa had indeed pissed in the candy bowl. “I don’t know why you bothered to try setting me up anyway. I haven’t dated anyone since—”

“Costia,” Octavia said. “I know. You haven’t had sex since then, either, which is a shame,” She tossed the remnants of her lollipop into the trashcan beneath the table, then reached into the bowl and retrieved a packet of Skittles. Lexa scoffed. “You’ll like Niylah. She’s pretty. She’s an editor,” Octavia paused. “Almost. She’s an intern.” 

Shaking her head, Lexa faked a smile as Elsa approached her table, her blonde hair sparkling with white glitter. “Trick or treat!” She beamed, holding up her pillow case full of candy. Octavia tossed a handful of candy into the bag, and because Lexa thought the girl made a cute Elsa, she tossed in a few more pieces for good measure. “Thanks!” The child told them, then scurried away and moved on to the next table.

There was a momentary lapse in silence, Lexa’s chin having returned to the palm of her hand. “That was like the fifth Elsa I’ve seen,” She commented, and Octavia hummed in acknowledgement. “When is Frozen going to run its course and finally stop haunting me in my sleep? If I have to hear Let It Go _one more time_ —”

Poison Ivy waved her away with a green hand covered in leaves. “Quit bitching just to bitch,” Octavia told her. “Frozen will go out of style once that frozen heart of yours thaws from the block of ice you’ve got it stored in,” Lexa huffed, crossing her arms and kicking Octavia in the ankle. The younger woman rolled her eyes before suddenly straightening in her chair. “You’d better wipe that frown off your face, Ice Queen. There’s a Harley Quinn headed this way, and we both know you have a thing for blondes.”

“I do _not_ have a thing for—”

“Trick or treat! Got any Twix in that bowl?”

Lexa blinked once, twice, and on the third flutter of her eyes, they traveled from shapely legs to the beautiful face of Harley Quinn. She was leaning over the table and rifling through the candy bowl, her fingernails painted red and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Harley Quinn was all soft features and pale skin, her cheeks round and decorated with inky black hearts. Her hair was pulled into high pigtails, the pink and blue curls hugging the curves of her neck and hanging over either of her shoulders. 

“Damn it,” The woman said, pursing her lips. “You guys are out of Twix, too!” 

She stood up straight and cocked her hip, then crossed her arms over the generous swell of her chest. Not that Lexa noticed, of course, because her wandering eyes had only lingered long enough to read the ‘ _Daddy’s Girl_ ’ written across the front of her t-shirt. Her formfitting t-shirt, Lexa _also_ didn’t notice, that was tattered and torn and hugged her in all the right places. 

Octavia kicked her beneath the table. _Stop staring_. 

Blinking out of her stupor, Lexa managed to clear her throat and meet Harley Quinn’s cerulean eyes. “They’re popular,” She said lamely, and Octavia kicked her under the table again. “We ran out of them an hour ago. You should have stopped by and raided our candy bowl sooner.”  

The other woman pouted, jutting out her bottom lip as she reached into the bowl again. “I guess you’re right. You’re even out of the caramel apple suckers,” Lexa turned and glared at Octavia, the culprit who had eaten the last lollipop. She rolled her eyes. “So what are you supposed to be?” Harley asked, tearing open a Snickers bar. “Grumpy Cat?”

Octavia snorted, nudging Lexa with her elbow. “Might as well be. It’s no wonder the girl I tried to set her up with hasn’t shown up. If I didn’t know any better, her face would have scared me away, too.”

Interest piqued, Harley Quinn placed her hands on her hips, her eyebrow quirked in amusement. “How rude of her.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Your name wouldn’t happen to be Niylah, would it?” She asked, though she knew better. “Octavia will never stop pestering me about going on a date if it’s not.” 

She chuckled, leaning forward to rest the palms of her hands on the table. “My name is Clarke,” Harley introduced, and Lexa sank back into her seat, defeated. “But I can be Niylah for you, if you’d like? Or anyone else that you want me to be. I’m versatile.” 

After another kick to her ankle and a painful twist in her gut, Lexa glanced at Octavia who was gawking at the blonde with a grin. “Clarke,” Octavia repeated, rolling the name in her mouth. “I’m Octavia. I’m a journalist,” She nudged Lexa with her elbow. Again. “And this useless lesbian is Lexa. She’s the managing editor for the paper. Don’t be off-put by her bitch face. She always looks like this.” 

Clarke laughed, and Lexa’s cheeks flushed pink. “Nice to meet you, Lexa. I’m a photojournalist-turned-art critic. You know,” Clarke tapped her index finger against her chin, thinking. “I think you’ve sent some of my articles back to me. Something about, ‘Have you ever taken a grammar course?’ and ‘Did you write this five minutes before the deadline?’”

“Fuck.” Lexa murmured beneath her breath, leaning forward and dropping her head into her hands. 

“Don’t take it personal,” Octavia said to Clarke, who was biting the inside of her cheek. She’d worked for _days_ on those articles, and Lexa had sent them back to her without a single positive comment as feedback. “We call her the Commander because she’s _such_ a fucking grammar snob. She’s like that with everyone and is like a walking, talking, breathing red pen. One time—”

With the pointed toe of her heel, it was Lexa’s turn to kick Octavia beneath the table. “Shut up, Blake, before I take a _direct object_ and shove it up your—”

“See!” Octavia cried, pointing an accusing finger at the brunette. “She even threatens people with grammar!”

A quiet chuckle escaped through Clarke’s painted lips. “Well,” She began. “I _do_ work hard on my articles, and I _have_ taken several grammar classes. But I suppose,” She riffled through the candy bowl. “That I can forgive you for being such a snob if you agree to take me out for coffee.” 

Lexa’s head snapped up, her green eyes widening with surprise. “Right now?”

“No,” Clarke deadpanned, flipping a pigtail over her shoulder. “In the morning, Snob. I’ve eaten too much candy to drink coffee tonight,” For emphasis, she unwrapped a pink Starburst before popping the candy into her mouth. “You got a phone? I’ll give you my number.”

Stunned by the blonde woman’s forwardness, Lexa retrieved the phone from her pocket and handed it to her. Clarke added herself as a contact and then handed the device back, a smug smile lingering on her face. “Text me in the morning. There’s a Starbucks across the street.”

“Alright,” Lexa agreed, too eager. “I will.”

Smiling still, Clarke said her goodbyes and dismissed herself from the table. 

“Way to go, Grammar Snob. You got yourself a date and w _ithout_ my help,” Octavia beamed proudly at her friend. Lexa scoffed, and there was a momentary lapse in silence. “You know,” Poison Ivy began, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “I bet she could have unwrapped that Starburst with her tongue. Imagine what else she could have done with it.” 

Lexa groaned. “Shut the fuck up, Octavia.”


End file.
